Possession
by Mellaithwen
Summary: Interfering with an exorcism proves fatal for the Winchester brothers. One shot.


**Possession**

**By Mellaithwen**

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**Rating: T**

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**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural I'd bring it out in the UK a helluva lot quicker.**

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**Summary: Interfering with an exorcism proves fatal for the Winchester brothers. One shot.**

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**A****/N: A One shot, and my first work in this fandom I might add. The smaller passages of Latin have a translation in italics, and the large portion is a known formula for exorcism.**

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"No! Stop it! You can't do this!" Sam cried, running towards them, his brother at his heels, crying out in a similar fashion. Closing the gap between them and the town that stood on the grassy knoll, facing a sinister child contained in a circle surrounded by crosses. They had seen the procession of sorts from afar. Having debated over the situation ever since arriving in the small town after stopping for the night.

They had been informed by both a young waitress-prone to gossip, as well as many respectable citizens, though they found the most detail from the keeper of the motel.

He had explained it all without missing a beat. Seeing nothing wrong with a little curiosity. He had told them that a few months ago the young daughter of one of the most prestigious farmers around there had been possessed.

The boys had returned this with a glance at each other and an equally skeptical glance at the old man behind the counter, who smiled, unfazed by this. He had proved his point in many ways, showing that the child did indeed warrant enough for an exorcism, though the town itself was not predominantly Roman-Catholic.

And ever since the town had noticed this, things had gotten worse. Instead of freak-accidents while near her, there were deaths, unexplainable, barbaric murders, all with a link to that one little girl. One seven year old girl was the cause of it all. Crops failing, animals dying, disease spreading, and the invitation of death leaving a constant shadow over the townspeople's lives.

This wasn't a job, and the brothers had agreed. This was messing with a lot more that people unwilling to see the paranormal, but instead it was an entire community battling faith against despair. Something that packed a deadly crossfire. But Sam's opinion began to change, especially after meeting the girl, and right now, as he ran, it was clear that he may not be in his right state of mind.

Sam was closer, and as he reached the circle he could hear the townspeople crying out for him to stop, to leave, but he didn't. He kept running towards her when he felt hands grab his shoulders and throw him backwards onto the ground. Dean knew the demon wouldn't leave his brother alone, unless…

Dean turned around to face the girl in his brother's place. Ready to defend, until he found her eyes and stopped.

They were blank, no iris, no pupils, nothing but a empty holes of a brilliant white clouded with a grey fog. He heard the whispers, the gentle voice of a seductive nature, beckoning to him, confirming every doubt, and fear, escalating it all.

"Dean?" Sam called having snapped out of it as soon as the Devil set his sights on the eldest. Sam saw his brother drop to his knees on the grass, one knee falling atop a cross, staring ahead of him. Staring at her, the not-so-innocent little girl. The swirling fog was increasing, edging towards him, and everything else turned to white-noise. A crackling signal, but nothing more. He was cold. Colder than he had ever been before, and he felt the cruel irony. Here he was, facing the Devil, and he was freezing. The only fire he could feel was the burning in his heart as he could not look away. He could not breath, his chest felt as though it were caught in a vice, crushing the life out of him.

He had broken the circle, and there was nothing to be done. He had moved one of the crosses as he fell on it, and now nothing could be done.

No one dared go near, though they saw how the young man struggled.

Sam was being held back by over half of the crowd who had gathered, including the young girl's burly father, who repeated over and over again that it was too late. Nothing could be done. It was his fault. He had been adamant the child was innocent, and his brother had reminded him time and time again that they shouldn't interfere. If nothing else, it was the parent's decision. The town was small, and every inhabitant believed the girl to be possessed. Hell, even Dean wondered. But Sam, ever since Sam had met her he had insisted she was pure, and good.

Dean knew why his brother was so convinced though. Because the idiot had gone in alone to the room where she stayed. To the playroom, dimly lit by a nightlight.

Not only had he completely disobeyed his brother, but he had lied to the parent's, to the girl, and done so at night, a demon's preferred time of day.

Dean had cursed him at the time, as he had seen the empty bed on one of his trips to the bathroom. He had known instantly where his brother was, having recalled their argument earlier regarding the matter. Dressing quickly, he had made his way to the house, in time to see his brother leave.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, advancing with a furious glare on his face.

"Dean!" Sam replied, in a less hostile manner. "I'm telling you man, she's just a little girl."

Dean looked at him incredulously as his brother tilted his head to the window, where the eerily pleasant girl stood at the window, waving. As his brother returned the gesture, Dean grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the car.

"What the hell where you thinking, Sam!"

"What do you mean?"

"We discussed this in the motel." Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Discussed? Funny, all I remember is you ordering me around!"

"Don't turn this into one of your mellow-drama's about me bossing you about, 'cause you know what Jerk? I'm your brother and if I tell you not to go somewhere, you listen!"

Sam growled in response. "No, Dean, you listen to me. This whole town is blaming some little kid for their problems and it's wrong!"

"We have done NO research on this, you can't know everything!" Dean cried, desperately trying to prepare his brother for the possibility of being wrong. Sam didn't reply, instead he opened the car door, and got inside, his brother following suit. Sam saw Dean grab the steering wheel in an attempt to reign in the anger, and only spoke when the car had made its way out of the street.

"She's just a little girl." He said quietly, wanting his brother to realize how kind the child had been, how innocent…

"Yeah," Dean said curtly, well aware of their track record, "With the devil inside of her."

And how right he had been.

Sam cried out again as he saw his brother tense even more from his position on the ground, he looked at the people holding him back, willing for them to let go.

Then he heard something, and so did those surrounding him, who looked at each other confused, unable to decipher the words spoken by the voice. Dean's voice.

"Adimo ego ipse in vicem."_ Take me instead_

And Sam couldn't hold back the dread that washed over him as he understood what Dean was doing.

The girl had been innocent once, that much was true, but now, with Satan in her soul, she was far from it.

They had to get it out.

But exorcisms were unpredictable and more than a little tricky. They were incredibly dangerous, and mostly resulted in the death of the victim.

So Dean was getting it out of the girl without putting her in danger the only way he knew how.

He was offering himself instead.

The pain was excruciating, and Dean barely saw the little girl fall limp in her white night-dress as the evil entity left her, glad to have found another host. Enjoying the satisfaction of ruining another life.

His chest heaved as it filled his soul, its voice replacing the cocky tone of a Winchester. Filling it with poison instead.

Dean span around, now on his feet, and it was clear from the smirk, that the demon was pleased at the strength the body already possessed, though he despised the power of his host's emotions. Stronger emotions than a child's ever could be.

Sam ran forward, as he was finally let go. He grabbed the journal that had fallen from his brother's coat as he had ran, and flicked through the pages, ignoring the sneering Devil edging toward him.

Page after page of demonic beings stared up at him, and then he found it, the passage near the centre of the page. He read over it, and stretched out to grab the bottle of holy water that lay forgotten on the ground. But Satan would have none of it. Sam looked up in time to see his brother, no not his brother, throw him into the air, causing him to land further away. Thankfully still holding on to both the journal and the bottle of precious water.

He opened it, grimacing at his own injuries from the fall, as the Evil presence came at him, walking slowly as though to drag out what he seemed to believe would be the young Winchester's death sentence. Sam flicked open the top from the bottle, and waited. The Devil was right in front of him, and Sam let himself be dragged upwards, until he was staring into the blank holes where his brothers eyes had once been afraid for him.

"Dean?" He shouted.

"No." His brother's mouth told him, cackling with a sound that echoed, causing the audience that had yet to dwindle to cringe as it rang in their ears. The pastor who had been about to exorcise the girl now watched in shock, he had never expected this. Never, and he found himself clutching the rosary in his palm tighter than ever. Muttering simple prayers under his breath for the young man. After all, he had understood the latin spoken earlier. He had known the true intentions of the young man, and hoped he would see through this. Hoped they would all see through this.

"I love my brother, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"No? He doesn't love you. He hated you. He blames you."

The Devil grinned as the doubt flashed momentarily in front of his captive's eyes, realizing he had no need to elaborate further, able to felt he guilt pouring from the both of them.

But then it was gone.

This wasn't a shape shifter who wanted to be Dean, and he sure as hell wasn't downloading the young man's thoughts, no. He was making it up as he went along, and Sam could see that.

"Sure, whatever you say."

Apparently, Sam mused, as a hand found its way to his neck, Satan doesn't take to Sarcasm.

Not once did Sam struggle against the grip choking him. He waited for the perfect moment, knowing the being possessing his brother was engrossed in killing him. He clutched the water bottle in his hands, tilting it slightly so that small droplets fell onto his thumb before throwing the bottle and smashing it atop of his brother's head. Wincing as he realized his brother may not look back on that fondly.

If he could ever look back on it again, that was.

The water did it's job, the holy essence making Satan scream, making Dean's throat hoarse. He dropped Sam immediately, who groped on the ground for the journal, finding the page in record time and reciting the words needed.

"Crux sancta sit mihi lux non draco sit mihi dux, vade retro satana, nunquam suade mihi vana sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas!" The words were rushed, but Dean's head looked up at him in rage. Sam knew it was working, at least, it had to be if the Devil was that pissed off.

"Crux sancta sit mihi lux non draco sit mihi dux, vade retro satana, nunquam suade mihi vana sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas!" He repeated again, drawing a cross in the air between him and Dean, the Devil crying out before hissing "You can't stop me."

"No? Could'a fooled me." Sam said breathlessly, and found as he began to repeat the words once more, another voice had joined him in doing so. The pastor, his rosary held high against Dean.

"Crux sancta sit mihi lux non draco sit mihi dux, vade retro satana, nunquam suade mihi vana sunt mala quae libas, ipse venena bibas!"

Sam got up on shaky feat as he and the pastor advanced, repeating the words a fourth and fifth time, seeing the Devil get weaker and weaker as they continued to do so.

The Devil in Dean made to charge one last time, but the pastor held out his hand with such a force, the cross attached to the beads thrust forward as he cried "Vade retro me, satana!" _Step away from me, Satan!_ And the body of Sam's brother was thrown forcefully into a tree. "Malefactor absum praetereo!" _Evil be gone!_ The Pastor cried at the dark mass circling around Dean's unconscious form, and let out a sigh of relief as it seemed to explode, lifting the shroud that had covered the town for too long.

"Mama?" The little girl cried out, looking around her, and shrieks followed as she was embraced, having not spoken the word without venom for such a time. The Pastor smiled as he saw the girl was indeed returned to them, and he saw the sun shine.

The smile left him as he saw the two men at the base of the large oak tree.

"Dean?" The younger man whispered, stroking his brother's face, willing him to awaken. "Dean? It's okay now, you can come back."

The Pastor hung his head, still holding the rosary in his palm, rubbing it absent-mindedly.

"Dean? Please, just wake up."

He didn't stir, he lay peacefully on the ground, his lids closed, his lashes extended onto his pale cheeks.

"Dean?" The sound that came from Sam's throat was cracked as the emotions broke the dam, his eyes pooling with tears as he clutched his brother close to him. Blaming himself whole-heartedly.

He was so far into the depths of despair and hurt that he shrugged off the small movement of a hand as nothing more than his own fantasy of how this could have turned out. He sobbed openly into his brother's shoulder, and only flinched back when he heard the words "Its okay Sammy, it's okay."

His eyes shot up, his throat constricting as he cursed himself for creating the cruel mirage of his brother alive.

Dean flashed a weak grin towards his little brother, reaching out a hand to wipe away the tears, muttering "Pussy," As he did so. But Sam didn't care, he ignored the comment so typical of his brother and grabbed the older man, holding him so tightly that Dean found it hard to breath and after giving his brother quite a few reassuring taps on the back, began hitting harder to emphasize the need for oxygen.

The Pastor looked on, happily, glimpsing up at the blue skies as though he knew it was thanks to another that the man now lived. He continued to smile as he saw the brothers embrace once more, though far more lax than the previous bone crushing hug. It seemed even Satan himself could not break the bond between these two brothers.

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